


hell yeah i slayed that babe

by mikantsumiki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Humanstuck, more like dave wants to either sleep or get laid, the directing business is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikantsumiki/pseuds/mikantsumiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dave Strider and all you really want is a goodnight’s sleep, but like hell is that going to happen any time soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hell yeah i slayed that babe

**Author's Note:**

> please ignore the title!! i had no idea what else to call this :(

It’s late at night and work is keeping you up yet again. It’s not even that you’re really stressed over your job or anything – you’re only trying to make your way to the tip top with all of the other famous directors out there; you’re just trying to find someone who’ll give your script the time of day – but for some reason, you’re having these episodes of insomnia where you just can’t get to sleep. Sometimes, to take your mind off of work for just a bit, you drive around town and visit some local bars. You don’t even drink, but the scenery and the drunken conversations you get to hear about always make your day a little bit better.

Your name is Dave Strider and all you really want is a goodnight’s sleep, but like hell is that going to happen any time soon.

\--

You find one that’s open and barely filled with bodies, the harsh smell of alcohol seeping from every corner of the room. There’s a bar tender who’s practically dozing off herself, one elbow on the counter with her eyes glazed over. There are a few guys on the side playing pool and making bets on who’s going to win; cigars in their mouths while smoke wavers in the air.

But somebody different catches your eye.

There’s a woman sitting off towards the other side by the tables, sporting a short red cocktail dress with this weird crimped flower design by her waist and you’re not really sure if that’s supposed to make it look good or what (either way, you think she looks gorgeous in it) and a pair of shades to match. She’s got her light red hair pinned back into a bun and there’s chopsticks sticking out of it, a soft curl falling down the side of her cheek and being twirled around by her finger, a half empty glass of something copper in the other hand. From what you can see of her thigh, she’s got this amazing greenish tattoo going up her leg, even though you can only see the tail of whatever creature it might be.

Something about her appearance and you know its way more than just the fact that she’s hot, pulls you in, and almost glues you to your spot.

After a moment of just standing around like a moron, you finally manage to go over there and try to charm the panties off of this girl, so to speak.

(Hey, maybe you can do it literally too! It kind of depends on how many drinks she’s had, and you remember that it’s been a helluva while since the last time you got laid, what with your career being the number one priority in your life.)

“Is this seat taken?” You ask, standing by the chair on her side. You watch as she looks you up and down with her eyes before nodding. Now’s the time to come in with a small ice breaker so that it’s not awkward between the two of you. “So,” You go on, pushing your shades up onto the bridge of your nose, “Do you plan on getting Chinese food afterwards?”

Her quizzical expression has you wondering why the hell you can’t be as smooth with the ladies as your brother was. Maybe she thinks you’re trying to pick her up for a date? Soon, she dissolves into a fit of laughter though, and it’s one of the freakiest and loudest laughs you’ve ever heard in your life.

Yet, you remember it from somewhere, but you have no idea what.

“Are you trying to hit on me?” She asks afterwards, setting her drink aside and bringing both of her elbows up onto the table, resting her chin on her wrists, “In that case, you better buy me a few drinks first! I’m not that easy.”

You didn’t think getting her to talk to you was going to be this easy either.

\--

After what seems like hours and a drink or two later, you have this girl howling with laughter as you two share stories about your jobs, your experiences, your friends and eventually, the two of you get onto the subject of what your names are, after you found out her mother died after she was born, with no father in the picture, so she was raised by her aunt who had one of the brattiest daughters _ever,_ but yet, they were just like actual sisters.

The two of them weren’t so close anymore, but back in the day, they used to run their high school. She talked about how her sister’s off on some “crazy treasure hunting adventure” while also in the middle of finishing community college, something that’s taken her far too long to accomplish.

She found out about how you’re all alone in the big wide city of San Francisco trying to make it big as a director with your sister checking up on you and how your situation is every other weekend. Sure, it gets lonely, since you don’t know much of anybody down here, but it also means you get more time to think and have all the freedom you want.

She tells you about the dragon tattoo, you find out, that runs from her knee to just below the side of her breast and how painful it was for her to get. She says that it took hours to design and how she cried throughout most of the inking and coloring, but she also says that it was so worth the hours of peeling skin and redness that lasted for only a day or two. You ask her why she got it in the first place and she starts going on and on about how dragons symbolize the courage for her to get up in the morning and take on another day, and power so that she’d never give up on a project or a person or anything else going on in her life. She also says that it symbolizes her freedom as an individual and how one day she’ll, metaphorically, spread her wings and fly.

That and, you also find out, but it was completely obvious, she really fucking loves dragons.

You think it’s kind of cute how she gets so into what she’s talking about when she talks about it, nonstop rambling on and on about her interests and thinks she feels so strong about. She kind of reminds you of yourself when you talk about photography or about your stories.

She tells you about her job, which you find out that she’s an attorney. She says that working can be a pain in the ass sometimes and that she doesn’t like to deal with mountains of paperwork. She also says that the best part about her job is when she gets to stand in a court room against the obvious criminals and showcase all of the horrible things they’ve done, watching their faces contort with different emotions as the jury’s slowly convinced that they need the harshest punishment the judge can slam down.

You think she’s such a sadistic woman and you’re honestly okay with that. (Honestly, you think it’s kind of hot, but you’ll never admit this confession).

You tell her about how, back in college, you took a bunch of different biology classes just so that you could dissect animals all the time. You also gladly mention how that most of the things you have in your apartment is either rap equipment for whenever you want to lay down some beats, a darkroom for your photos, a fridge that’s barely stocked with any food, prized katanas hanging on your walls and stuffed animals hanging on mantles.

She thinks that’s _cool._ Actually, no, her exact words were “Wow, that’s really fucking cool! I’ve never met someone who’s so interested in so many different things!”

You know she hasn’t met anyone like that because only one of you exists. There’s only one guy out there with all of these interests and dedicated to all of them and that guy is you.

You admit to her that night that you feel alone in your apartment sometimes. It’s such a wide, empty space and you’re having trouble filling it up. You don’t really know why you’re saying these things though; maybe it’s because you’re a little buzzed and you don’t want to just go back home to your place and sleep again – you don’t want it to be some vicious cycle of sleep, work, eat, sleep – but that doesn’t explain why you’re telling a complete stranger about your personal life, either.

You can’t help but think you’ve met her before, or have seen her somewhere. Her voice and face remind you of somebody you don’t think you ever met, yet you can’t shake this feeling.

It gets close to dawn by the time the bar tender tries to kick you guys out. She doesn’t even give a fuck though as you wrap an arm around her waist, grab onto her hand purse and chauffeur her out of the bar. She leans against you lightly and thanks you for the amazing night and that she’s so happy she got to meet you and good luck with your directing career. She also kisses your cheek with a slurred giggle and you kind of don’t want to let her go.

You know she’s already told once, but you don’t remember her name at all. She said it in between talking about her age (you found out she’s only twenty-seven, yet she’s hot enough to be that blonde eighteen year old in porn you’ve tried) and about how it’s so hard for her to find the right sized jeans anymore since her hips are wide (you’d rather see her without anything on), but it didn’t stick to you.

“What’s your name again?” You ask as she tries hailing a cab, two fingers between her teeth and whistling.

She looks back at you like you offended her, perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowing. “I thought I already told you my name is Terezi,” She says, glancing back and forth for any sight of yellow.

“Oh,” You shake your head as you take the steps it takes to be right beside her, “I meant, what is your last name?”

Terezi’s face softens at that and she smiles, letting out a hearty laugh. “Terezi Pyrope.” She pauses for a moment before speaking again, “You know, I don’t think I caught your full name either.”

“Dave Strider,” You want to make some shitty joke about how she’ll be screaming it later, but at the same time, you don’t want to push your chances.

A moment later, a taxi comes to a stop in front of them and the redhead looks between him and the car. She steps over the curb and crawls inside, looking at you expectantly. “Well, Mister Strider,” She says, “Are you coming with me or what?”

You were not expecting that. Nonetheless, you smirk and join her in the cab a few seconds later while she tells the driver where her place is at. She puts her hands on the back of your neck and draws you in for a heated, rushed kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting so much more. Your hands find her waist and practically pull her into your lap, but you have to be wary of the driver since he can see the two of you through his mirror. It’s not like you give a shit though.

You can pick up your car later after you literally charm her panties off.


End file.
